Forget Me Not
by Ciara in cotton socks
Summary: When a mission goes disastrously wrong Spencer Reid loses his memory. How will the young genius cope with confusion? Is a new neighbour the key to guiding him through it? Sorry, really bad summary but please read and review! CHAPTER 5 IS NOW UP!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"_Never was anything great achieved without danger"_

_Niccolo Machiavelli_

"Reid. Reid, come on!"

Emily Prentiss' voice was tense with urgency. She shot her partner the briefest of glances, concern flashing across her features.

"Sorry," Spencer Reid whispered back, avoiding her gaze.

"Are you alright, Reid?"

"I-I'm fine. I just have a bit of a headache, that's all." It was a lie. True, his head was pounding, but that wasn't what was affecting him. He couldn't seem to shake off the feeling that something wasn't quite right. His fingers flexed around his gun and his breathing came in short, gasping pants.

The microphone taped to his neck must have picked it up, because suddenly Garcia's familiar perky voice was talking in his ear.

"Focus, Spence. Everything's fine. Just breathe, O.K.?"

"Thanks, Garcia." Spencer wished his voice wasn't wavering quite so much. It would hardly instil confidence in his abilities if Rossi or Hotch were listening in. He took a deep, steadying breath and nodded once to Prentiss.

The pair of them crept forward as one, hands wrapped tightly around the handles of their guns. The alleyway was pitch dark, the unsub mere metres away inside the disused store immediately to their right. It shouldn't be too hard. After all, there were two of them. Prentiss' assured stride made him feel slightly braver. He focused on following the gleam of her dark hair swinging in front of him.

And then everything happened very quickly.

One moment it was just him and Prentiss in the damp, disused alleyway. And then they were surrounded.

There were four of them, maybe five, it was hard to see in the dim light coming from the flickering streetlamp overhead. Spencer made to draw his gun, but already a muscular arm was pulling it from his grasp. A vice-like grip pinned his arms to his sides. He heard a muffled scream as one of them grabbed Emily and then a rough hand was pulling his hair tightly by the roots, forcing his head upwards. He tried to yell out for help, but a sharp swipe across his throat crushed his trachea. He was helpless.

"Garcia," he managed to choke. "Penelope, help-"

The rough hand ripped the mic away from his ear.

"No way, boy genius," a male voice growled. The grasp tightened painfully, but Spencer could feel one hand releasing itself. Emily was silent now. Wincing in pain, he twisted in his captor's arms. He saw a hand raised, holding something heavy.

And then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"_Do not trust your memory; it is a net full of holes; the most beautiful prizes slip through it."_

_Robertson Davies_

Spencer opened his eyes slowly. He blinked once. Twice. Three times.

His eyes scanned the unfamiliar room. It was small and square with dusky pink walls and a white ceiling. The lights were switched on, glaringly bright. They made him wince. There were flowers in vases on the windowsill: agapanthus lilies, pink roses and sunflowers. The vases were plain, cream and ceramic. A hospital room so. But how did he get here.

Absentmindedly, a rare occurrence for him, he fidgeted with the stiff, starched sheet. After a moment, he realised that his throat was burning. Still trying to remember what had happened to him, he noticed a glass beside his bed and reached out for it. Immediately, a shooting pain rushed up his right arm and he hastily replaced it on the bed. He flopped back against his pillows, a dull thudding ache pounding in his head.

_Knock, knock._

A face appeared around the doorway; the woman was middle-aged with vivid auburn curls piled up on top of her head and deep purple shadows beneath her intelligent brown eyes. As she walked in, Spencer spotted her uniform and realised that she was a nurse. Her face brightened considerably when she realised that he was conscious.

"How are you feeling, Spencer?" she asked, picking up his chart and scanning it quickly with sharp eyes.

"Sore," he groaned. "What happened to me? I don't- I don't remember….."

"That's to be expected," she smiled sympathetically. "You sustained quite a serious head injury, you know."

Spencer stared back at her blankly. He didn't remember how this had happened.

"You have some very anxious visitors outside. Would you like to see them?

Spencer nodded weakly. Maybe his visitors, whoever they were, would be able to tell him what was going on. Cold terror was beginning to seep through him. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he form a clear memory?

The door opened again and a group of people traipsed in. Spencer assessed them quickly. Nothing much, only a faint hint of recognition. He couldn't put a name to any of the faces in front of him.

"Hey, kid." A tall, muscular black guy spoke up, a half-smile decorating his features. "You gave us a bit of a scare back there."

Spencer stared back at him, uncomprehending.

"Spencer, I feel responsible for this." An older man, sallow-skinned, spoke in a hoarse, rasping voice. "We should have been quicker to provide backup, we shouldn't have sent you two in alone."

A younger man with dark hair nodded his agreement. "It's true, Reid. I'm sorry."

"Backup? I was- I was at work when this happened?" Spencer asked, wishing his voice wasn't shaking quite so much. He hated speaking in front of a group, no matter how small.

"Yeah, you were, Spencer." The speaker this time, a woman, dark-haired and pretty, took a step forward. She had bruising on her neck and a thin cut near her hairline. "You and I were attempting to apprehend an unsub. Paranoid schizophrenic, open and shut case. Or, at least, we thought so… You don't remember?" A faint crease puckered her forehead. They were all staring at him, varying degrees of concern on each face. They were waiting for him to say something.

"Look, I'm sorry but I-I have no idea what you're talking about, any of you. Who-who are you?"

"Spencer!" a diminutive figure exploded. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and stunning features marred by dismay and horror. She burst forward, grabbing hold of his hand. "Spence, it's me, JJ. Don't you- don't you remember me?" Tears glistened and danced in her eyes.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"You honestly don't know me? Or Morgan or Emily or Rossi or Hotch?" She pointed to the various people with a trembling hand.

"N-no, I don't. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," said the dark-haired woman, Emily. Her features were soft as she put her arms around the woman named JJ. "I'm sure your memory'll come back soon, sweetie. You just focus on getting better, alright?"

Spencer nodded weakly. His head was spinning from all this information. One by one, the group filtered out of the room. Finally, only JJ remained. She rubbed at the red rims of her eyes with the sleeve of her blue cashmere jumper, avoiding Spencer's gaze.

"Sorry for screaming at you," she mumbled, shame-faced.

"That's alright. Sorry for not knowing who you are."

A half-smile broke through on her tearstained face. "Wow, did Spencer Reid just make a joke? Weird." She shook her head slightly. "Penelope sends her love by the way. She's sorry she couldn't come."

"Penelope?" Great, another name to add to the list. What the hell was wrong with his eidetic memory? It was like he'd lost about five years of his life without realising they were missing. He looked at JJ for help.

"God, this is going to get annoying. I think I preferred it when I couldn't understand a word you said. Having to explain things to you is really freaking me out."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Author's Note: Thanks so much to all my reviewers so far, keep up the good work!**

"_Your neighbour is the man who needs you."_

_Elbert Hubbard_

After a week spent in hospital, eating horrible food and being asked how he was feeling by various members of the team a hundred-odd times a day, Spencer was finally allowed to go home, having regained most of his memory in remarkably quick time.

Derek Morgan, the black guy who insisted on calling him 'kid' gave him a ride back to his apartment.

"Thank you," Spencer said gratefully as Morgan handed him his bag through the open window.

"You sure you can manage, kid?" Morgan asked, looking doubtful. Truthfully, Spencer couldn't blame him. He still looked awful, battered and bruised as a result of his altercation with the still-unidentified assailants in the alleyway. And although he'd come up with most of the pieces for the jigsaw puzzle of his memory, a couple of key pieces were still missing, preventing him from seeing the picture in its entirety. It was driving him insane.

"Yes, yes I'm fine Morgan."

"Right, and you remember your apartment number, yeah? It's-"

"73, I know. And since when have you been all overprotective of me? If I'd known it would make you this civil, I would have got amnesia a long time ago."

"Ha, ha. Whatever happened to 'thanks for giving me a ride home and taking time out of your busy social life, Derek'?" teased Morgan sarcastically.

"Thanks, Morgan."

"No problem, Reid. I'll see you back at work soon."

"Bye Morgan." Spencer watched as his friend drove away, then picked up his bag from the sidewalk and headed into his apartment block. Now this he remembered. Home.

His apartment was relatively tidy. There was an unwashed bowl in the sink and a pile of books on the breakfast bar, but other than that, everything was in its place. Exhausted, he went into his bedroom and flopped down on the bed. He began to unpack the things Emily had brought to the hospital for him before being interrupted by a phone call.

"Spencer!" a voice sighed in relief as soon as he picked up.

"Hi, JJ."

"I was just checking in, making sure you got home from the hospital alright."

"I'm fine, Morgan didn't corrupt me or bring me to a brothel or anything like that. You don't need to worry."

"That's good," said JJ. "Do you want me to come over? I could cook you dinner, or I'm cooking over here, there's enough for two, you must be really hungry after all that hospital crap-"

"JJ," Spencer cut her off. "I'm fine, really. I don't need anything, and if I do I _will_ call you, I promise."

"Promise?" Her voice was anxious.

"Yeah, I promise. Now go and get some sleep, you were at the hospital really late last night."

"I'm fine, it was no trouble at all-"

"Goodbye, JJ." Spencer hung up before she could say another word. He knew JJ was only trying to help, but there was such a thing as being _too_ helpful.

Still, at least he remembered her now. And the others, the rest of the BAU team. He'd been worried that someone would somehow slip through the net, but they hadn't. And now, as though he had unplugged a dam, memories were flooding back to him. He was almost up to speed. Almost. That last month or so still evaded him, and it was killing him. Frustrated, he tossed away a shirt and lay down, curled in a tight ball.

_Knock, knock._

Spencer woke with a start at the sound of knuckles against wood. Stifling a huge yawn, he stretched his stiff muscles and went to answer the door. He hauled it open warily, praying that JJ hadn't decided to come over after all. Outside stood a young woman, possibly 23 or 24. She was stunningly pretty with waist-length waves of hair in honey and caramel tones. She had intelligent aqua eyes and a smattering of light-brown freckles dusted her nose. In her hands was a wicker basket with a lid on.

"Hello," said Spencer uncertainly. Did he know her? Was she yet another forgotten friend?

"Hi," she smiled broadly. "Are you Spencer Reid?"

"Doctor," he corrected without thinking. "_Doctor_ Spencer Reid. Yes, I am. Do-do I know you?"

"No," she admitted. "My name's Aimee Ellis. I just moved in down the hall. My neighbour told me you'd been in hospital, so I thought I'd come up and introduce myself, see if you needed anything. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh." Spencer couldn't help staring at her. She was captivating. But something in his startled expression must not be welcoming because her pretty features caved in unhappily.

"Dammit," she groaned, grimacing painfully. "You think I'm a total freak. Look, I'm sorry for disturbing you, it was stupid. Here, just take these muffins and I'll go. Sorry." She thrust the basket into his hands and turned on her heel, cringing in embarrassment,

"Don't!" Spencer blurted. She turned back to face him, looking concerned. Spencer felt himself flush spectacularly scarlet. "I-I mean, thank you. I'd invite you in, but I'm not really up to visitors today. Maybe-maybe some other time?" He looked at her half-hopefully, but his crippling shyness was creeping over him again after that brief period of self-confidence. He hastily withdrew his gaze.

But at his words the girl named Aimee didn't laugh scornfully or look at him pityingly. In fact, her face split into a sunny smile and she nodded fervently. "I'd like that."

Once he'd closed the door, Spencer couldn't help but grin to himself. What would Morgan have to say about _that_?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"_Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."_

_Anais Nin_

A month passed, and Spencer couldn't muster up the courage to go talk to Aimee again. And then it was time to go back to work.

He woke extraordinarily early, shaking with anticipation. He ate in a hurry, reading a new novel as he did so to calm himself down. Then he dressed in his typical khakis with a shirt and cardigan. He tied a knot in his tie with fumbling fingers and grabbed his messenger bag from its spot hanging from the door handle.

Spencer stepped into the deserted elevator and pressed the ground floor button.

"Hey- hold the door please!"

Hastily he pressed the button to hold the door.

"Thanks," said a breathless voice, and then- "Oh. Dr. Reid. Hi." It was Aimee Ellis.

An awkward silence fell between them. And then the elevator shuddered to a halt, stuck between floors.

_Oh no,_ Spencer thought to himself. _Oh no oh no oh no._

Aimee reached out calmly and pressed the alarm. Spencer focused on taking slow, deep breaths. And then a memory came back to him. Another elevator, another time.

_At least the company's improved,_ he thought drolly. _Morgan was sooo smug at first, but even he panicked a bit. Still, it brought us closer together. In a non-sexual way._ Even in his panic, the idea made him shudder.

"Hello?" Aimee called, pressing her mouth to the intercom. "We're stuck up here. Help, please." Her voice was the epitome of calm. An awkward, tense silence developed once more. And then the lift jumped. A tiny scream rippled through Spencer's clenched teeth. His hands scrabbled blindly for the wall.

"Are-are you alright?" Aimee sounded concerned.

"I-I don't honestly know," Spencer managed to whisper faintly. His breathing rate was increasing as the hyperventilation began. "Oh God oh God oh God, not again!" He was trembling from head to foot.

"Hey, hey!" Aimee reached out tentatively and took his shaking hands in hers. "Don't panic. Everything's fine, just fine."

"You don't know that!" Spencer blurted hysterically. "We could die in here, we could-"

Look at me Dr. Reid, just look at me."

He did so without arguing. Tender concern flooded her pretty features.

"That's good," Aimee encouraged. "Now talk to me."

"Wh-what ab-about?"

"Anything." Her smile was dazzling. She never let go of his hands.

"Al-alright," said Spencer shakily. He began to explain the basics of quantum physics.

"Hey, something a guitar-playing journalist can understand please," Aimee teased playfully.

"Um, O-OK." Spencer wracked his brains. "Actually, I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now. I-I hope I didn't offend you that day outside my apartment. It's not that I don't want to get to know you or anything. I-I just- I'm not exactly used to pretty girls taking an interest in me, I guess. I mean, unless they want paying or are in some way mentally unhinged." He looked at her, embarrassed.

"Well then, you must have met an awful lot of pretty, _stupid_ girls," said Aimee quietly, "Because you seem pretty sweet to me, Dr. Reid."

He stared at her in astonishment. "Sp-Spencer," he managed to splutter. "C-call me Spencer."

"OK _Spencer_," Aimee grinned. She squeezed his hand tightly. "Thank you."

Suddenly, the elevator disappeared and Spencer was somewhere else entirely.

"_Talk to me Garcia," Spencer ordered, gesturing to the rest of the group to sit down at the table. He placed his phone on the wood in front of him._

"_OK sweetie." Spencer could hear the clatter of fingers tapping on keys as Garcia found the relevant information. "Let me see… 'K, got it. 182 Bleeker Street. A neighbour reported a disturbance, screaming and banging. Could be our guy."_

"_Do we have a name?" asked Rossi._

"_Nope, the house is registered to a Lauren Talbot, but neighbours say she's away in Maine, not due back for another couple of weeks. I'll see what else I can find out, maybe Lauren has a house-sitter or a lodger. I'll keep you posted"_

"_Thanks Garcia. Right, let's move."_

"Spencer? Spencer!"

Aimee's anxious voice pulled him back to the present with a jolt. His head spun uncontrollably and he staggered unsteadily. Aimee's hands flashed out to support him. He hadn't even noticed the elevator begin to move again. It reached the ground floor with a click and Spencer felt Aimee's hands on his shoulders, guiding him towards a chair in the lobby.

"Are you OK?" she asked as Spencer lowered himself weakly into the seat.

"Yeah… Yeah, I just- I just remembered something," Spencer said faintly.

"Sure? You look- well, pale."

"Paler than normal?"

"Oh, ha ha. Well, if you're sure…"

"I am. Honestly Aimee, you don't need to worry about me."

"OK." She still looked uncertain. "But at least let me give you a ride to work."

"I told you, I'm f-"

"Don't argue with me. I'm very stubborn, you won't win."

**Author's Note: Thanks to Sue1313 who gave me the idea for the flashback! See, I listen to my reviewers, so if you have ideas to help me, just REVIEW!!! **

**Oh, and I know the elevator thing's been done before in CM, but it's my fav Reid-ism, so I had to get it in here somewhere!!**

**xxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"_The way I feel about it is: Beat me or feed me, but don't tease me. It's toy food, who needs it? Serve it to toy people."_

_Jeff Smith_

"Don't," Spencer said, striding past Morgan's desk.

"What do you mean?" Morgan's tone was a little too innocent to be convincing.

"Don't look at you're watch and make a smart remark about my shoddy timekeeping."

Morgan held up his hands and sighed. "You know me so well, kid."

Spencer smirked to himself.

"Hey." Morgan stood up, his expression suspicious. "What're you smiling about?"

"Nothing," he countered quickly. "What, I can't smile without it having some hidden meaning?"

"Reid." Morgan threw an arm breezily around his young teammate's shoulders. "You may be the genius of the group, but that doesn't make me stupid. Spill, kid."

"What's going on?" asked JJ brightly, appearing at the top of the steps with her arms full of files.

"Reid's about to tell me why he's grinning," Morgan laughed.

"Oooh, I'm intrigued," JJ smiled, bouncing over to join them. "Tell us, Spence."

Spencer felt a dull flush creep across his cheeks. He ducked out from under Morgan's arm and turned away from them, embarrassed.

"I-I kind of arranged to meet up with this girl from my apartment block."

Stunned silence. Warily, Spencer turned to face them. Their expressions were a mixture of incredulity and a struggle to hold back laughter, although for a split second something unidentifiable flashed in JJ's eyes. But before he could ask her about it, it was gone and she was beaming at him.

"Oh Spence, that's fantastic! Is she nice?"

"Is she hot?"

"Morgan!" JJ exclaimed in a faux-scandalised voice. "Don't be so crude."

"But is she?" Morgan pressed as JJ flounced away.

"Yeah, she's pretty amazing," Spencer murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

"Jerks!" JJ called over her shoulder.

"Thank you JJ," they yelled back in unison. As soon as she was out of sight, Morgan grabbed a file from his desk.

"Let's get to work, fast. If she comes back and finds us talking about your hot neighbour, I wouldn't put it past her to set Prentiss and Garcia on us."

Spencer shuddered; those two could probably kick his butt. In fact, there was no doubt about it. They could kick his butt.

"Good idea," he agreed. "Hey, any information on the case we were working on before- you know."

"Nope, sorry man. It was so weird. Do you remember, we had the profile down to a tee from the first few murders? It should have been routine. I mean, we didn't have a name, but even so, things should have gone to plan. I don't know what happened. Multiple attackers? I mean, it must have been unrelated. A coincidence, right?"

"Most likely unrelated. Do you have the case details?"

"Why? The pattern's gone, he hasn't attacked again."

"Oh, I know. I just can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something…"

Like your memory of events?"

"No, something else…"

"OK. If it's important to you, I'll get Garcia on it."

"Thanks Morgan. I appreciate it."

"No problem kid. But seriously," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "This girl, what's she like?"

"Tall, honey-blonde, plays guitar," Spencer summarised.

"Damn, kid! What is it with you and hot girls?"

"Yeah, but at least this one's not looking for payment. Or crazy."

"You sure?"

"JJ's right, you _are_ a jerk."

"Take's one to know one."

"Oh yeah, real mature Morgan."


End file.
